The Cleveland Plain Dealer loves Alternadad. A sample paragraph:

"Because Pollack's stories about his son, Elijah, and his wife, Regina, are mostly hilarious, bookstores will probably stock "Alternadad" on the Humor shelves. But the book is also bracingly honest, and so full of love it could just as easily go in the Parenting section, next to Anne Lamott's classic, "Operating Instructions.""

Now here's some more of that "bracing honesty."

This morning, I was in bed, reveling in my Sunday-morning stink. Elijah's stuffed animals surrounded me, as we'd earlier made a fort. Now it was time for playoff football, and I was enjoying watching the robotically efficient Patriots slap around the Jets, whose coach had apparently used the wrong annoying boxing metaphor to motivate his team. Anyway, Regina was off having coffee somewhere. Elijah entered, carrying two plastic balls, one orange and one red.

"Daddy," he said. "Let's play Find The Onion."

"What's Find The Onion?" I said.

"You have to count to twenty and then you have to hide the onion and then the other person has to find it."

"OK. Where are the onions?"

He held out the balls.

"These are the onions," he said. "And they are very stinky because they grew in a poo field."

"Swell," I said.

"Come on, Daddy," he said. "Find the Onion."

"Fine," I said. "You hide yours first."

He left the room and, while I could plainly see him, stuck his "onion" under a shirt in the laundry basket.

"Bet you can't find it," he said.

"Elijah, you..."

"It's hidden!"

"No, it's in the laundry basket."

"Oh, daddy, you found my onion. Now hide yours."

"Fine," I said, and I put it under the pillow, which was right in front of me.

For the next ten minutes, Elijah searched the entire house, while I sat on top of the onion. Finally, I showed him where it was.

"You're good at Find The Onion, daddy," said Elijah.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I said. "You want a popsicle or something?"
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Posted by at 5:04 PM | Permalink